


Restlessness

by RyoWei247



Category: League of Legends
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Married Couple, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-22
Updated: 2020-09-22
Packaged: 2021-03-08 04:40:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,293
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26589772
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RyoWei247/pseuds/RyoWei247
Summary: Morgana wakes to find her husband returned home after two months away.
Relationships: Morgana/Jericho Swain
Kudos: 18





	Restlessness

**Author's Note:**

  * For [my best friend](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=my+best+friend).



Somewhere in immortality sleep was lost. Morgana had realized it not too many ages into her solitary earthbound walk among mortals. At some point between the wings sprouting from her back and the first time she laid down next her now husband, sleep had left her side. Yes, it was not until that man of hers swept her off her feet that she found herself closing her eyes again, letting her consciousness slip and allowed sleep to swallow her into the endless deep with the stars. 

Even still it remained something not easily maintained. This return to sleep was often restless, especially when he was not there beside her. Too many troubling thoughts to wake her, dreams of her sister and their father that she was too saddened by to admit their continued recurrence, and the strange sort of emptiness of this place that three years in she was still growing used to were all things that weighed heavier when her beloved wasn’t here with her.

Her husband, the Noxian Grand General himself had been away two months, overseeing the frontlines of his conquest. A ceaselessly busy man as always. His ambitions led him far from home often, though perhaps not usually this long. 

With each passing night now she was waking up more frequently, her hand falling predictably to the empty space beside her. This night was no different, it seemed. Until it was not her own restless mind that woke her, instead rustling, movement. 

Morgana’s eyes blinked open slowly. A faint orange glow being what kept them open. Across the room there was a fire crackling to life in the fireplace and in the lounge chair in front of it sat the shadowed figure of a man. His white hair and black coat on his shoulders catching the fire’s light. 

Morgana sat up, swinging her feet over the edge of the bed and adjusting her robe as she got up “Jericho, love?” She called. “You’re home.”

Her husband turned his head, a near smile forming on his face when he saw her. “Did I wake you, my dear?” He asked, outstretching his hand for hers. 

Morgana took it, that quirk of a smile coming to her face when he kissed the top of her hand. “You did, how ever will I get back to sleep at such an hour,” she said with a light laugh as he tugged her down next to him, into his grasp, and under his coat where she was quick to snuggle up to him.

“How careless of me,” he chuckled, his lips pressing to her head. “I’ll see myself out then,” he said, making a half hearted attempt to get up that she put an end to with one her wings coming up around him. 

“Fleeing the scene of the crime, how terrible,” she said, stroking his cheek with her claws. “So long you’ve left me here by my lonesome, only to wake me at such a late hour, worse still you threaten to take your leave of me again? I should see you in chains for this.” 

“I _humbly_ beg for your forgiveness, my lady,” he said, a smirk finally daring to cross his face. 

“I’ll consider it. Under the condition that you kiss me, of course.” 

“How gracious of you.” Another quiet chuckle left him as he leaned down, holding her face and this time kissing her lips, gently. 

Warmth flooded through her chest, her arms reaching up to wrap around his neck, holding him there and squeezing tighter when his claws held her at her waist. She’d missed him terribly, missed this, missed the gentleness of his kisses that echoed as such a strong contrast to his sharp nature. 

When they parted Morgana’s head returned to his chest, relaxing into him with a content sigh. “Your journey home was uneventful I trust?” 

“Oh,” he started with a sigh, “Nothing out of the ordinary I suppose, an ambush here, an assassination attempt there.” 

“Hmph this precisely why you ought to have me with you, my love,” she said, her claws grazing back along his cheek. 

“And precisely why you will not,” he said his other hand dipping into her hair, brushing it out through his fingers. 

“I am more than familiar with battle, Jericho. There is nothing you need fear, you know this. No harm will come to me.”

Morgana watched his jaw tighten, his lips parting to speak but at first giving way to only silence. “Whether harm will befall you or not I cannot have you with me Morgana. Seeing you injured, no matter how briefly, is not something I care to see a second time.”

A frown creased itself along her face as her own hand reached up, rubbing up along his face, into his hair, more gently now. “She’s gone, Love and she isn’t coming back.”

Her husband placed his hand over her own, knitting their fingers together and bringing it to him to kiss it. “I ask that you remain here, my dear,” he repeated. 

Silence hovered then for a moment before Morgana nodded. Truly there was nothing to fear but she remembered very clearly the look on his face that day. For a man who never wore even a shred of his heart on his sleeve it was all the more frightening to see such fear and panic in his eyes and she admitted, she too would rather not be witness to it again. “Alright love,” she whispered leaning up back towards him, meeting him for another kiss, this one even softer than the last. When they parted this time her husband was the one to tuck her head under his chin and keep her close. Morgana sighed contently, letting her eyes fall closed for a moment before speaking again. “Tell me one of your stories, my love.”

Swain chuckled, taking off his glove as he returned to carving lines in her hair. “Surely you know them all by now.”

“Known or not you woke me up in the dead of night and I’ve decided this will be part of your repentance. Tell me a story, Jericho Swain.” 

He smirked, more visibly this time and leaned back against the arm rest as he began. 

“Let’s see here, I believe it was 20 or so years ago, before the Ionian invasion mind you. We were in the jungle in Ixtal—”

* * *

Morgana was asleep in Swains arms long before he ever came close to finishing that story of his. She so rarely lasted through them in recent times. It was something of a comfort to him to see that peaceful look on her face, especially after so long gone. He knew how she struggled with it. In the beginning, those first few nights they spent side by side, sleep had been a shock to her. And he knew that the moment he walked out the door, whatever it was that made her restless was quick to settle back in her mind. He would be lying if he didn’t say the same was present within him when he strayed too far for too long. 

Swain watched the fire die to embers before he lifted his wife into his arms and brought her to their bed, getting changed out of his war attire and getting into bed beside her. 

It was hardly an instant before she was back to curling into him, her head on his chest and her arm and one wing wrapped over him. It made him smile. It made him forget for just a moment that he knew that Leblanc wasn’t dead. For just a moment Swain could wrap his arm around his wife press one last kiss to her head and forget that things were far from over.

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> My first MorSwain fic! Well...it's also Ao3's first MorSwain fic. These two have become a fast fav of mine and I hope y'all enjoy this quick drabble as an experiment!


End file.
